


Saturnine

by Alethia



Series: Starting to Finish [3]
Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Gossip, Jealousy, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-05
Updated: 2004-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calleigh and Hagen. Hagen and Calleigh.</p>
<p>He wondered if they were sleeping together, in the kind of morbid fascination that caused one to poke at a cut and watch it bleed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturnine

**Author's Note:**

> Addresses events in both 2.02 “Dead Zone” and 2.05 “The Best Defense.” Originally posted on LJ [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/34107.html).

“You want to hear something funny?” Calleigh had asked, amusement coloring her tone, tempered only slightly by playful indignation.

They had been lazing, Eric looking on as Calleigh flipped from station to station, maddeningly never setting on one channel for too long. News story after story featured the capture of the escaped convicts, each station turning it into an ever-greater melodramatic conclusion to a frightening situation for Miami residents. At least this time the media were making out the police to be the heroes rather than the villains. They were usually not so lucky.

“What?” Eric asked, the lull they had fallen into pleasurably dulling his senses, something he loved about just being with Calleigh—loved that he could let his guard down and not have to concentrate so sharply, pay such minute attention.

“The night before we caught them, Hagen wanted me to stay over with you or Speed.” Inflection making it sound the silly idea she thought it to be.

Eric laughed, giving voice to Calleigh’s obvious amusement. “Are you serious?”

She looked over, ironic half-smile firmly fixed in place, sharing a knowing look with him. “Can you believe it?” Even she sounded like she couldn’t.

“Man, he doesn’t get you, does he?” he replied, relaxing into the couch and grinning at her.

She had laughed it off, waving it away as an idiosyncrasy, something amusing but inconsequential.

And that should have been his first clue, because Calleigh never let anybody malign her, never let anybody think she wasn’t up to the task, ever capable. Hell, if her parents died, she contracted the bubonic plague, and—worst of all—Beretta stopped producing her favored gun she’d _still_ protest that she was fine, perfectly able to collect evidence. And no one would ever even know. 

He’d seen Calleigh compartmentalize and it was a scary, scary thing to watch.

It made him no less in awe of her—probably increased that awe, in fact—and her ability to keep her personal and professional lives completely separate. It was also one of the things that made him thankful every day he got to just hang out with her, because as far as he could tell he was the only one to be able to move freely from one role to the other. Sure, there were a few arguments here and there, and Calleigh did tease him mercilessly about the stupid things he did, mistakes he made, especially with women. And sometimes that even bled onto the job, but they generally kept things in their separate places.

He was glad she had even allowed him those special privileges; Calleigh could be disturbingly neurotic about these things sometimes.

He had thought at the time that Hagen was being overprotective, that he didn’t understand that Calleigh was not the type of woman to allow a man to tell her what she should do. Hell, it had taken him a great while before he even got to the point where he could call her on it if she was behaving badly. Eric would never dream of telling her what to do, especially when it came to personal safety.

He did value his life, after all.

So if _Eric_ couldn’t, there was _no way_ Hagen would be allowed to tell Calleigh of all people how to take care of herself. Apparently Hagen had never been to one of her Krav Maga workouts. Eric had watched her elbow a guy in the balls and flip him over her head like he weighed nothing, all with that cheery southern temperament firmly fixed in place.

He still winced in sympathy when he thought about it.

And Calleigh—Calleigh didn’t compromise. If she was going to do something she _did_ it. Half-measures did not exist in her world. If she was going to learn to shoot, by God she’d be the best shot in her whole damn town. If she was going to defend herself she was going to do it with the dirtiest, most brutal, most deadly self-defense form in the world.

Those Israelis, man, they knew how to do things right.

But Calleigh had brushed Hagen’s transgression off, never spoken of it again, and Eric should have known that that was unusual. That should have been a clue. He was a CSI, after all, and he should have picked up on that tiny detail. But Calleigh had sprung it on him when he was in anti-detective mode and he just—hadn’t.

The next time, though, the next time he noticed.

***

He had seen Calleigh go out to test the harpoons, tracked her automatically, something he couldn’t control and didn’t really want to. It was nice knowing what she was doing. Reassuring.

He noticed her and he also noticed Hagen notice. Even watched with a sinking feeling as Hagen had waited a few minutes and then followed her, the sinking in Eric’s stomach letting him know _exactly_ what that was about.

And, wouldn’t you know, Calleigh was even that good at keeping him out of the loop because he hadn’t picked up on _that_ little development at all. 

Hagen left a little later, smirk playing about his lips telling more than even he probably knew. Calleigh finishing up just afterwards merely a confirmation.

And Eric _knew_ he shouldn’t push it, but he couldn’t quite seem to help himself when it came to Calleigh. 

“Hey,” he said, catching up with her as she walked down the hall.

“Hey,” she responded noncommittally.

“Was that Hagen earlier?” She glanced over at him sharply, but looked away just as abruptly. Not a good sign.

“Yeah.” Voice dangerously clipped and he really shouldn’t have pushed it, but—

“Oh. So, what’d he want?” 

His mouth and brain didn’t seem to be communicating at the moment. That was probably a good thing considering if they had been he would have realized the full implications of Calleigh’s narrowed eyes and stiff posture and the irrational jolt of fear was enough, thank you very much.

“Nothing much. You’re very interested.” Not a question. Not even close.

“Nah, I’m just—I just—I saw him and was curious. That’s all.” No, Eric didn’t sound like a scared little girl _at all_.

“He had a question about the case.” Calm finality and okay, Eric was scared, but with the end of this painful conversation seeming close at hand he was thankful that at least he couldn’t screw things up too much worse. 

His pause must have dragged on too long, because Calleigh looked over again and raised a cold brow at him and right, self defense mechanisms in full swing there, it was nice to know what they finally looked like when they were directed at him. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Delko?”

Ouch. Hard to remember Calleigh could be brutal when she was cornered, hard to even consider it when it had never been directed at _him_. 

Stupid to think that he had free rein with her. Because she was breaking her rules for the second time, only _more_ , because Eric had never gotten a reaction like that and it made him wonder just how close she and Hagen were in yet another query that was so amazingly none of his business. Suicidal to wonder and yet so compelling, so seductive to the detective in him, that primal urge that made him _good_ , that same urge that made him want to _know_.

What was it that Calleigh had said to him once? That he was a masochist who created these kinds of situations for himself because he secretly craved the attention?

How very astute of her.

He mumbled a goodbye, an apology—he still had no idea—and retreated _fast_ , but not before he’d seen the glint or remorse in her eyes, realization at _who_ she was snapping at. It didn’t change anything but at the same time it did because Eric knew she probably wouldn’t have felt the same about anyone else. It didn’t help, though.

Because all his instincts had been absolutely right—Calleigh only got that way when someone hit a nerve and it looked like Eric had hit a pretty massive one. 

Calleigh and Hagen. Hagen and Calleigh.

He wondered if they were sleeping together, in the kind of morbid fascination that caused one to poke at a cut and watch it bleed.

Masochist? Check.

But on another level it made sense that Calleigh was so defensive about it. This was Hagen. Hagen, the guy who wanted her to sleep at Eric’s—yet _another_ image he shouldn’t be contemplating—for protection. The guy who flirted with her while she was supposed to be working. The guy who didn’t get Calleigh at all.

She had every reason to drop Eric in his tracks for that line of questioning and he should have known better.

But even then Eric could see the wreck about to occur. It just showed how gone she was that she didn’t.

***

The third time he had known something was off. Calleigh was upset, but thankfully not at him. No one who didn’t know her well would have recognized it, but Eric could see it—written in the line of her body, the gaze that never focused one hundred percent, like there was something distracting her, keeping her from being fully present.

He wanted to ask her about it, happening upon her in an empty break room when they had some down time. All thoughts of that went out the window when he touched her shoulder to get her attention and she winced, shrugging away from his touch like she’d never done before.

“Calleigh?” he asked, worry evident in his tone if not his face.

She laughed it off in a manner that was so amazingly unconvincing he wondered why she even bothered. “It’s fine. It’s nothing. Just a bruise.” Uh-huh.

The hot sting of rage that flushed through him at that so unexpected he was stunned silent for a second, knowing accusation showed on his face. It wasn’t too much of a leap; Eric didn’t like Hagen, knew he was bad for Calleigh. Swore that if he’d hurt her Eric would kill him.

Her eyes widened slightly at that and he never was good at keeping emotions in check, and even if he had been, he’d never felt the desire to tear a man apart before. 

She straightened him out pretty quick. “Eric, no. It was an accident. The harpoon had a kick and I didn’t anticipate it would be that strong. It got me in the shoulder. It’s not a big deal.” More heat behind the last, seeking to make him believe it.

He nodded, unconvinced, and said nothing, trying to calm with reason the instincts that were telling him to take action immediately.

And he’d never thought of himself as a violent person.

Not surprising at all that Calleigh would try to cover up the resulting awkward silence. “Unfortunately, Horatio found out. He probably thinks I can’t even do my job.” A throw-away comment that revealed so much.

“How’d Horatio find out?” Coming down off a new high, using anything as a distraction.

And Calleigh’s embarrassed look—a look that said she’d realized too late where this conversation was headed—was enough to ground Eric in the present.

A telling pause. “Um, Hagen—mentioned it to him.” Nothing more. Nothing more need be said. Eric was already filling in the resulting argument.

He reached out and squeezed her good shoulder this time, careful nonetheless. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she answered, injecting a lightness he knew she didn’t feel into that one word. But still, a grateful little smile heartened him and at least she wasn’t mad at him. Surprisingly enough.

“Did you yell at him?” he asked, playing along with the lightness, but making sure he stayed firmly away from dangerous Hagen-relationship questions he knew she’d resent.

She narrowed her eyes in mock disbelief, her tiny smile ruining the effect. “Eric Delko, I am a southern woman. Do we yell?”

He backed away, acquiescing and grinning back at her. “You’re right, you’re right. Didn’t mean to malign your southern propriety,” he answered, coaxing a genuinely amused smile out of her this time, feeling that all-too-frequent twinge whenever he thought about Calleigh being unhappy.

He wondered, masochistically yet again, if Hagen made her smile, recognized when she was upset, worked through it. Eric seriously doubted it, but he kept that opinion to himself.

Because even he understood how Hagen’s betrayal of trust must have stung. She put on a brave face, as always, but Eric above all knew how important discretion was to Calleigh, how important it was to keep work at work and everything else separate.

How essential it was to make _sure_ everyone knew that she was capable.

And as much as she touted her southern heritage, he’d always figured that had something to do with it, the prejudices he knew people still held about women working, especially in the sciences. And with her parents—from what little he’d gleaned even after all this time—he knew she held herself to extremely rigid standards, always having to prove to everyone that nothing could affect her, like a diamond: beautiful, cold, and unbreakable.

Eric wondered how she was really feeling about what Hagen had done. To Calleigh, the worst thing one could do would be to breach her confidence, to somehow give others the impression she wasn’t performing up to par.

The selfish part of him hoped that would be it with Hagen then, but Calleigh seemed uncharacteristically taken with him in a way that Eric had never seen before. Granted, she hadn’t been in any kind of serious relationship since he’d known her—not that she would have informed him if she had been, apparently—but for Hagen she was ignoring so many of her rules, forgiving things she normally wouldn’t. It all dimmed Eric’s hopes.

Not that he should be hoping Calleigh’s relationships should fail anyway, so that was probably karma there. Or something. As if he wasn’t already going to hell for all the shit he’d done to people in his life.

***

The fourth time it hadn’t even been from her. He’d had to hear about it through the office gossip grapevine, and that was almost as upsetting as what people were saying.

Calleigh and Hagen. Having a nice little intimate chat at work, not practicing any sort of discretion. 

Talking about an obviously sexual encounter in Hagen’s car. And something about a moon roof.

It was twittered about by women in the break room and Eric just _knew_ what Calleigh’s reaction would be once she found out. And he knew what he had to do, too, even though it was going to kill him to do it.

He hoped that examining the car would keep his mind off images of Calleigh and Hagen together. Unfortunately Hagen decided to show up, bringing what he had to do right back to the forefront of his mind.

And then Hagen actually suggested that Eric _not_ look at the seatbelt, something Hagen knew Eric knew was not only a breach of professional conduct but an ethical one as well. Surprising that Hagen had the balls to actually suggest it. They weren’t buddies—if they ever even were going in that direction Hagen’s dalliance with Calleigh would have put a stop to that—and they weren’t particularly friendly.

Eric really didn’t understand what Hagen thought he was doing.

He would admit that Hagen’s ignorance of Eric and Calleigh’s friendship—as it were—was a big part of his annoyance as well. Hagen should have known that Eric and Calleigh were good friends, very close, that Eric wouldn’t have kept something like that from her. Eric wondered if the man was really that short-sighted or if Hagen had assumed some sort of confidence in error. Because there was no other explanation.

Or perhaps Hagen didn’t know and he just thought Eric was an unaware bystander in all this. But Eric wasn’t going to go there because he couldn’t believe Calleigh would take things that far, would neglect to mention to Hagen that Eric was more than just a coworker.

The whole situation made him tired and that, irrationally, made him all the more annoyed with Calleigh. If not for her attempt at office romance he wouldn’t be in such an awkward position—faced with the task of making nice with the guy he was thinking not-so-charitable thoughts about and then having to go rat him out like the fucking third-grade snitch.

And thanks to Hagen’s oh-so-ethical behavior Eric had yet another thing to tell Calleigh. Wonderful. His life was just grand at the moment.

Hey, he was all for the quick death of their relationship—even he could see that Hagen was bad for her—but he didn’t want to be the one that came between them. After so many hard-learned lessons, he knew that one never benefited by getting in between a couple and he wasn’t too pleased with the idea of ignoring his own experience.

Not that Hagen had left him any choice and if he’d needed any more confirmation that Hagen wasn’t the type of person Calleigh should be with, well, that would have done it.

Not that he’d needed it. He was an ace CSI, after all.

By the time he’d gotten the evidence back to the lab Eric hadn’t yet worked up the courage to seek her out. He’d been hoping to do it outside work, knowing how uncomfortable it made her to discuss personal things when they could be interrupted at any moment. Hell, discussing personal things at all, but before he’d been able to formulate some sort of plan to talk to her about it, she came around to ask about her father’s case. 

He briefly considered saving it for another time, but the seatbelt gave him the best opportunity and besides, Calleigh’d probably never forgive him if he didn’t tell her immediately.

Her surprise that he knew about Hagen burned in a way he didn’t expect. She was so surprised that he would pick up on it, but even more, she was more concerned about what others were saying than about how Eric felt about Calleigh _not telling him_ something that seemed pretty important to her.

Yet another breach of her southern, must-make-sure-everybody’s-happy mentality. And _that_ was the most telling thing of all—and the most inconsiderate.

Not that Calleigh was ever inconsiderate.

He told her that pretty much everyone knew, letting her assume he’d heard the same way everyone else had. Maybe later he’d tell her that no, he knew her a little better than she thought, but at the moment he wasn’t feeling particularly close to her and quite frankly, she didn’t deserved the knowledge.

That was a convenient time to also mention the seatbelt because, hell, if he was going to have to be the one to break the bad news, he might as well go for broke, get it all out there, and clear the air.

Be a better friend than she had been.

She seemed genuinely disbelieving about Hagen telling him to ignore evidence, letting Eric know—as if he hadn’t already—that she really wasn’t being objective when it came to Hagen. Not that he needed much more evidence after the harpoon fiasco, but it still surprised him. Calleigh was so—precise. And she was a good judge of character. Why she didn’t _see_ Eric couldn’t fathom.

Or, rather, he could and he was just ignoring the part of his mind that was telling him that love was blind.

Because he _refused_ to believe it had gotten that far, even if they had started sleeping together.

It rattled him to tell her about everyone knowing, making up some bullshit excuse about how they were CSIs and not telling her that it was, in actuality, her own damn fault for outlining sexual acts in a very public place.

That probably wouldn’t have gone over too well.

It rattled him, though, and so he couldn’t be blamed for the slip when her father came in to ask about the evidence. He didn’t mean to look so pleased at the thought of Calleigh’s father proving Hagen the fool, he tried to cover it up by sightlessly staring at the seatbelt and most definitely _not_ looking at Calleigh. Thankfully, Calleigh’s dad didn’t know him very well.

And she was so wrapped up in her Hagen troubles she didn’t even give him a second glance, and it was ironic that for _that_ lack of consideration he was quite thankful.

***

The fifth time was shortly thereafter, gossip this time emanating from the detectives that Hagen worked with and even they couldn’t resist sharing an anecdote _that_ enticing. Calleigh had confronted Hagen about the seatbelt, uncharacteristically doing it publicly, disregarding observers, and Hagen had admitted as much.

There had been words and Calleigh’d broken off a date.

And that seemed to be that.

Or so he hoped. Eric didn’t think Calleigh would rekindle that romance after basically being screwed over by Hagen twice in such a short amount of time, but hell, she hadn’t been acting in-character for a while and anything was possible.

And that thought was _so_ ungenerous of his _friend_ that he mentally stopped and reevaluated the situation. Calleigh had broken up with her boyfriend and he was mentally sniping at her?

Perhaps they’d both made mistakes in their friendship, then. Because even though Eric disliked the guy, Calleigh didn’t deserve to be hung out to dry like that and it was now that Calleigh’s needs should have been the _most_ important.

In his new philosophical outlook on all his relationships Eric decided to learn from this and to be a good friend, rather than acting the asshole he had reverted to so many times in the past.

***

The last time he hadn’t even needed protective gear to bring it up.

Calleigh answered his knock relatively quickly, opening the door without saying a word and wandering back into her living room, curling up in her favorite chair and staring intently out the window.

Eric closed the door with a soft click, following her in and taking his place on her sofa, their poses a grotesque mirror of those good times they had in her apartment. That and Calleigh’s stillness told him to wait, to just be there until she decided she wanted to ask him about it, which he knew she eventually would.

He didn’t wait long. “Why was I so stupid?” she asked softly, bitingly, looking over at him from her chair with questioning eyes, asking for some enlightenment that Eric didn’t know if he could give.

“I think, I think you saw what you wanted to see and made allowances for what you didn’t. I don’t think you were stupid. Mistakes are inevitable, Calleigh, and as perfect as you try to be, even you will make them once in a while,” he said, injecting kindness into what otherwise would have been a harsh statement.

She accepted it, nodding and turning back to the window, hiding the emotion he knew was there. Still so protective of herself, even with someone she knew would never hurt her.

He hoped she knew, because this thing with Hagen seemed to have shaken her confidence in herself and her relationships and Eric’s loyalty was something she never had to question.

He briefly flirted with the idea of going over to her and—he didn’t know, holding her or something. He shut that down immediately, knowing it would be rebuffed, that it wouldn’t be taken in the spirit it was intended. So he did nothing, sitting with her quietly well into the night, until she came back to herself and smiled at his continued presence, a spark of warmth again in her eyes that had been missing when he’d arrived.

He smiled back, standing and stretching. “I’ll make you some tea,” he offered, getting a grateful nod in return.

Setting it on the table next to her some minutes later and she grabbed his hand when he went to move away, briefly squeezing. He smiled back softly, accepting the gesture for what it was—a bear hug, squeal, and kiss on the lips from anyone else—and moving back to his seat on the sofa.

She sipped her tea for a minute before glancing at the clock, smiling sadly when she saw the time. “It’s late.” Practically whispered in deference to the hour and he nodded, getting up and getting ready to leave.

Shoes put back on and the apartment checked—okay, so even he indulged in some overprotective behavior on occasion—he stopped by the partition between the kitchen and the living room, checking in on Calleigh one last time.

“I’m fine,” she said, sensing his concern and gifting him with another of those genuine smiles, so rare these days. “Go. I’ll see you at work.”

He nodded. “Goodnight, Calleigh.” Solemn and only a little sympathetic, not wanting to alienate her in any way and there were still so many ways he could screw everything up.

“Night,” she replied. So he left, closing the door with a click behind him and walking away in a kind of daze.

He’d gotten what he’d wanted; barring some unforeseen insanity, Calleigh and Hagen were done. But was it worth the price Calleigh had paid? He really didn’t think so. It would have been better had this all never happened.

If wishing made it so.

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


End file.
